


A Collegiate Meeting

by ladyaconite



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989), Mona Lisa Smile (2003)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Teen Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-17 15:14:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9330992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyaconite/pseuds/ladyaconite
Summary: Richard Cameron's parents are leaving him unsupervised for two days. Cameron simply wants to relax and do a little homework. His roommate, Charlie Dalton, has other ideas.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, like many other DPS fanficts, this one assumes that the worst didn't happen in regards to Neil's involvement in the play. Not entirely realistic or plausible, but the story operates in a world where Mr. Perry never found out about Neil's involvement in the play. Thus, every DPS member is going home to more-or-less generically oppressive and restrictive household.  
> Please comment!

Richard Cameron had been squinting out the first floor window of the Cameron house for over thirty minutes. They were late, of course. He shouldn’t have let Charlie say he would pick up all the Dead Poets (excepting Knox who couldn't come till the next day) from the train station. His roommate was too unpredictable. Neil, Todd, Meeks, and Pitts were probably still waiting outside for Charlie to show up in his father’s Buick. Originally, Cam didn’t even want them to show up, but now that he was expecting them to, the wait was more than frustrating; it was agonizing.

Two weeks ago, Cam had - without thinking - mentioned to Charlie that his parents were going out of town to a friend’s wedding for two days, thus leaving him alone in the house. Charlie had jumped on the information right away,

“Your parents are leaving you unsupervised?”

“Yeah, so, I’m 16. I can take care of myself” he said as he looked over a rather difficult geometry problem.

“No babysitters or anything?” Charlie asked. Cam had to say he was more than a little pleased to hear jealousy in Charlie’s voice, but Cameron couldn’t dwell on the elation it brought at that moment. His geometry homework had to be finished. Not to mention, finals were in a week.

“No, Charlie, why are you so interested?” 

But before Cameron could even finish the sentence, Charlie was out the door. Cam could hear his roommate running to Knox’s room. Cameron let out an irritated sigh. He expected Charlie to come back in and make a fuss and say something like, “The baby is going to be unsupervised!” Charlie was rude and erratic like that. Cameron began to prepare himself for Charlie’s certainly verbal and potentially physical assault. Under his breath, as he heard Charlie’s whistles and claps from across the hall, the studious boy muttered, “He could at least let the rest of us have peace and quiet when he leaves a room.”

As Cameron finished checking his proof, he heard the slamming of a door followed by Knox and Charlie muttering and laughing. Their approaching footsteps only made him huff and try to renew his focus on the new equation awaiting him. But, to his surprise, the two boys walked past his door.

“Probably shanghaiing Neil to try and steal food from the kitchens” Cameron speculated when he heard the footsteps stop a few doors down and Charlie’s idiosyncratic, percussive knocking echoing throughout the corridor. 

From the special mug his mother had bought him during their annual summer trip to Martha’s Vineyard, Cameron began taking a sip of water, only to find himself choking on it and almost accidentally throwing the treasured cup against the wall when he overheard Charlie.

“Neil, Todd, how would you two like to spend two whole unsupervised days reading poetry, drinking whiskey, and listening to the sonorous sounds of Nuwanda and perhaps getting a few girls to-“

Before scrambling out of his room, Cameron grabbed his school vest and hastily dabbed his homework, which had been the victim of his choking and then spitting up of water. 

“Charlie!” Cam exclaimed as he rushed into the corridor.

Of course, Charlie, man of cool, was lackadaisically leaning against Neil and Todd’s doorframe with a look of surprise. However, Cameron knew Charlie knew exactly what he’d done. 

“Cameron, so glad you could join us. Is that vodka or sweat dripping down your chin.”

“Charlie” Cameron began a little too loudly causing Neil to hold up his hand and beckon them all in. With narrowed eyes, the red head boy sneered as his misbehaving roommate slinked into the room. When Todd sheepishly shut the door, Cameron started up again in a hurried whisper, “Charlie, you have no right to do this. My parents-“

“Will be gone for two days, Cam, during Christmas Break! I mean, can you think of a better opportunity for us to get together?” Cameron glared at Charlie, but was dismayed that while Neil’s face showed some apprehension, clearly visible too was intrigue. And Knox looked like he was trying to prevent his lips from forming a half-smile. The redhead knew if those three ganged up on him, he’d have no chance. And if Meeks and Pitts found out, God help him. 

The four of them had debated it for twenty minutes. It wasn’t really a debate though. Cameron had to surrender. He didn’t have the time or the patience to take on Charlie’s mischievousness. In the back of his head, he hoped and expected that over the week of finals, the others would forget about it or see the futility in it. In fact, Cameron thought he’d gotten away with it when they all departed from Welton for the start of winter holidays. No one had spoken of the party since that night. With confidence that he had aced his finals - even the unconventional one Mr.Keating administered - and that Charlie’s plan had failed, Cameron entered his mother’s car wearing a smug smile.

After allowing him to get situated, his mother began asking about his studies and how finals went. Cameron was just starting to unwind a little when his mother, as if just remembering, began lightly scolding him.

“Richard, you really should’ve told us beforehand that you were thinking of having a sleepover” his mother sighed, eliciting a wide-eyed stare from Richard. “When Neil called to ask for the details so that he could tell his parents, well, I was caught off guard. I’m sure I sounded quite foolish on the phone stuttering away that I had no idea about what he was talking about.” As they came to a red light, she looked over at Cameron, lips pursed and eyebrow arched, clearly waiting.

“I’m sorry, mom” he said with a sheepish smile, hiding the amount of confusion and frustration he felt inside. He knew Charlie Dalton was behind this. Before he could figure out how, though, his mother continued.

“Well, it’s alright. I’m sure you were busy with finals” she exhaled sharply before continuing in a lighter tone. “So it’s Neil, Steven, Gerard, and Knox, is that correct? For those two nights were away?”

Cameron noted that Charlie’s name was mysteriously missing. “Yeah, mom…if that’s okay.” His mind was still trying to compute how this all fit together. His lingering suspicion that Charlie was involved wouldn’t go away.

“Yes, I trust you boys. Neil said you were all planning on doing essay revisions, playing chess, and writing a paper for your English class. I hope, however, you’ll take them to do something entertaining. You know, the concert hall is doing a production of The Nutcracker if you’d all like to go. Which reminds me, we need to decide what you are going to buy for your father for Christmas…”

Cameron listened to his mother and agreed with her suggestions, but no matter what topic his mother brought up, Cameron couldn’t stop from thinking about the party. He wasn’t excited, not yet. His mind just kept focusing on Charlie Dalton. Cameron swore he’d get him back and when he got home, it took all his efforts not to run upstairs and call up Dalton on the phone. His mother insisted that he eat lunch down in the dining room and he followed her orders, but rushed through his meal. 

Upon hearing his mother chiding the maid about the state of the silver, Cameron quickly dialed Charlie’s number. Of course it wasn’t Charlie who answered the phone but their housekeeper.

“Yes, this is Richard Cameron Yes, I need to speak to Charlie Dalton, please” he demanded hurriedly. Soon enough that all too slick voice came on the telephone

“Hey, Dick, what’s up?” Charlie asked innocently. “I didn’t know you’d miss me so quickly. If I’d known I’d-”

“Don’t play innocent with me, Dalton” Cameron sneered, lowering his voice. “I know you’re the one who had Neil call and tell my mom I was planning a sleepover.” 

“You’re planning a sleepover, Dick? I have to say, Cam, I’m really impressed with your social skills. Although, Cameron, my roommate, I do have to admit, I am hurt that you didn’t consider inviting me.” Charlie’s mock surprise frustrated Cameron, but when Charlie started faking injury, Cam almost lost it.

“Listen, Charlie, you can tell Neil and the others that whatever you were planning is off. I’m not having you all come over and ruin my holidays.”

“But, Dick, you didn’t even invite me. As another member of the Dead Poets Society, I feel absolutely hurt that not only Neil, but the others were invited and I wasn’t. You know, Cam-“

“Charlie!” Cameron almost screamed.

“Alright, alright, Dick. You caught me. I surrender” Charlie laughed. “Listen, it’s going to be just like a Dead Poets meeting.”

“I don’t want to have a Dead Poet’s meeting, Charlie. I know-“

“Cameron,” warned Charlie without an ounce of humor. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life as a virgin? Do you think that college is just gonna be a string of nights spent studying? You ever talk to those guys who go to Yale or Harvard or Princeton? They go partying every night-“

“Yeah, Charlie, I know. But there’s a key difference. They’re in college. We still have to be accepted.”

“Fair point, fair point, Cam. But how do you prepare for an exam? You practice. Think of it, Cam! Two days of intense study! Look at this like as an experiment of sorts-“

“You’re not inviting girls over, Charlie.”

“I’ll try to find one for you, Dick.”

“No, Dalton. And no alcohol either.” Cameron was dead serious. He wasn’t going to have his parents find out that he’d lie or have Charlie cause a ruckus in his house. 

“If you bring either of those things, I’ll kick everyone out.”

“Alright, alright, Cam. Jesus.”

“Swear it, Dalton. You won’t bring alcohol or girls to the party…Charlie.” Cameron didn’t believe for an instant that that static he heard from the other end of the phone was real. He could envision Charlie holding some dingy cellophane wrapper, long hidden in his pockets, against the phone’s mouthpiece.

“Fine, Cam. I swear I won’t bring alcohol or girls. I’m gonna tell you, though. The guys’ll be real disappointed.”


	2. Chapter 2

Cameron scurried off the armchair. He hadn’t seen or heard a Buick pull up, but maybe Charlie had come from the other direction. The doorbell was on its second ring when Cameron managed to get the door open. On the tip of his tongue was a scolding for Charlie and a welcoming for the rest of the guys, but he was stopped dead in his tracks. Before him stood, as he described to the Dead Poets half-an-hour later, “a pretty, but too tall girl.”

“Hello, are you Richard Cameron?” the stranger asked, giving him a sympathetic and almost maternal smile. 

“Yes” he sputtered before inwardly scolding himself for one answering a stranger’s question (maybe she was one of those religious people he’d heard about) and two, for not keeping his cool. 

“Oh, good. I’m Joan Brandwyn. My aunt, Elizabeth Harold, lives just down the street” she offered up, smiling at him as if this was supposed to mean anything to him. A curious and confused look began to play on her face. But at that moment, Cameron couldn’t think of anything to say. He had no idea how to talk to girls and furthermore, he wasn’t used to seeing girls who were an inch or so taller than him. Her height only served to further disarm him. “I, um, I thought your parents would’ve told you.” Cameron furrowed his eyebrows together trying to remember. “They’ve asked me to come over and check on you every once in awhile for the next two days.”

Cameron’s eyes widened and he couldn’t stop his jaw from ever so slightly dropping.

“Don’t worry” she laughed, looking at him warmly. “I’m not going to be checking on you hourly. Maybe just at lunch and then dinner time. After all, you attend Welton. I’m sure you know how to turn on and off a stove. But let me know if you need anything….Is that alright?” 

As if he’d been slapped on the back of the head, Cameron returned to his senses. It was her reminding him that he went to Welton that did it. Straightening his lapels and coming to a straighter stance, he put on a confident grin and nodded his head. “Yes, thank you. My parents have left us well stocked with food and drinks. We’re still making our way through the assortment of European cheeses that my father received from a client. You know, Cheddar is actually-“

And right as Cameron was just beginning to get into what he considered the groove of the conversation, a loud horn honked, interrupting him. It was then he saw the burgundy Chevy parked in front of his house. The girl had also turned to look at the car and was now waving her hand apologetically to her seemingly annoyed girl friend sitting in the passenger seat. 

“I’m sorry. We have a movie to go see. But please, let me know if you need anything. Here’s my and my aunt’s contact information.” The horn sounded again but the girl pushed on it for longer. “I’m sorry. I’ve really got to go.” Cameron watched as she hurried to the car and drove off. Perhaps it was a good thing his parents had enlisted someone to look after him. He couldn’t see Charlie risking girls and booze now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that in Mona Lisa Smile, Joan and co. graduate in 1954, and that DPS takes place in 1959, but for the story's sake, I'm changing the dates a bit. It still takes place in 1959, but the MLS girls are in the college graduating class of '63.


	3. Chapter 3

“You see, I told you guys!” Cameron laughed proudly, nearly causing the excessive amount of Sugar Daddies in his mouth to tumble out onto the carpet. He’d been correct in identifying the occupation of a guest on What’s My Line. 

“Yeah, yeah, alright, Cameron” responded Charlie defensively before diving his hands into his popcorn bowl.

Overall, Cameron was incredibly pleased with party thus far. He’d given all the boys a scolding when they arrived and laid down the rules of the house. Luckily, everyone except Charlie was behind him in acting appropriately. They knew that if they didn’t, word would reach their parents. The thought of their parents reprimanding them was much worse than any sort of berating Charlie would do. And Neil, to his credit, had helped cajole and pacify Charlie. His point that the Dead Poets Society might be put in jeopardy if they got into heaps of trouble seemed to knock some sense into Nuwanda.

But Charlie scored some points then, too. With joy, he’d taken the opportunity of leading the group’s necessary admonishment of Cameron. How could Charlie not? Taken alone, Cameron’s description of his female visitor that night was worthy of receiving a lashing.

“Kind of young and too tall, Cameron? That’s how you describe women? That’s the best you, a member of the Dead Poets Society, can do? Jesus. Are you gonna describe all the dates your mother sets up for you like that too?” cried out a desperate Charlie before he continued in a high-pitched, feminine voice. “Well, mom, this one’s too tall. And this one is too short. And this one is just perfect!” 

Cameron pouted and his face grew red with embarrassment as the other boys laughed at him. Yes, his mention of adult supervision had had its intended effect of scaring his friends, but it had also had the untended effect of giving Charlie an arsenal of jokes. And when Cameron tried to defend himself, it only got worse.  
“No, Pitts, I didn’t talk about pipes. And don’t act like you know what to say to females either” Cameron retorted. But the boys continued in their peals of laughter and, without thinking, Cameron caused a new, more violent uproar of laughs. “I’ll have you know she was very interested in my story about the history of cheddar.” 

Everyone except Cameron was bending over at the waist, holding their stomachs, while they laughed uncontrollably. And the noise only grew when Pitts, weak from not getting enough oxygen, slid down onto the floor to continue guffawing. As soon as one of them regained their sanity, they had only to look at Cameron’s beet-red face or Neil’s tear strewn one, or hear Charlie’s chuckles, and they’d lost it again. After about a minute, Cameron, shrugged his shoulders at his own hopelessness and joined in their merriment.

“Please tell me more about cheddar, Cameron” begged Neil through fits of giggles. 

By the time they’d calmed, Cameron was largely over his ill-will, as was Charlie. And so all the boys began loading up on the various assortment of edibles that Cameron’s mother had arranged. As well, most of them, on their mother’s insistence, had come bearing some sort of tin or basket laden with food. Charlie was the only one who came without such a gift. His gift to the party was himself, of course, as well as a large supply of cigarettes, matches, and a dirty magazine. His mother’d been too busy arranging New Years celebrations to mind about a house gift and, in truth, he hadn’t been completely honest with her. He’d been allowed to borrow the car, but hadn’t said anything about Cameron’s. He knew his mother would call up Mrs. Cameron if he’d said he was having a sleepover. And once Dick’s mom knew Charlie Dalton was planning on coming, Charlie knew the whole plan would be ruined. 

Unlike the meager meals they had during their secretive meetings at school, tonight the Dead Poets feasted on delicious bundt cake, gingerbread cookies, petite-fours, crackers, cheese, deli meats, and cold salmon. Equally they stuffed their faces with what Meeks called “tooth killing snacks”, some of which the bespectacled boy had himself brought. 

For Cameron, this well-stocked spread was a thousand times more preferable to the paltry collection of food they were forced to snack on in the cave. Cameron didn’t get much pleasure out of slightly hardened bread rolls or half-eaten bags of chips. He didn’t feel that secretive sense of pride and success when he bit into the covertly purloined food. That sense of giddy joy that came from eating a pocketed apple (even if it was slightly bruised) was lost on the red-head. 

And for the others? Clearly, they were all enjoying the spread. One only had to look at their bulging cheeks full of food or their jumpers dotted with crumbs or their hands grimy with grease and sugar to assess that. But for Charlie, Neil, and Todd, they did notice the lack of that warm secretive feeling. Of course, they weren’t very bothered about it just then as they tried stuffing their mouths with as many grapes as they could. But Neil and Todd each had moments of private revery wherein they wished the Dead Poets were in the cave instead and that they could proudly say they’d snuck a whole bundt cake into the wilderness under the shadows of night. 

Charlie, on the other hand, was a bit more action-oriented in his thoughts. Sure, he was lying to his mother about where he was with his father’s car and about where he was spending the night, but that wasn’t devious enough. No, not for Charlie Dalton. Not for Nuwanda. With the pleasures of sneaking out food and smoking on school property absent, he required a new outlet for his mischievousness.


	4. Chapter 4

Charlie couldn’t believe that none of the other Dead Poets would go back with him to return the Buick. After all, he was the one who set up the whole meeting. He was the one who told Neil what to say to Mrs. Cameron. He was the one who then caused Mrs. Cameron to send out invitations to the other boys’ parents. And Nuwanda was the one who deviantly figured out how to keep Cam in the dark. And yet, there the rest of them were, refusing to accompany him as they sat stuffing their faces with candy and playing Charlie’s most despised game, Monopoly. Meeks had argued that if any of them showed up with him at his house, Mrs. Dalton would certainly get suspicious. When Charlie argued that Dick could show up with him since they lived within walking distance, Neil shot him down immediately.

“Charlie, if you show up with Cameron, your mom will definitely know something’s up.”

And none of them volunteered to wait outside the Dalton house. So now Charlie found himself alone, trudging back to the Cameron’s. And it was trudging. There was snow up to his ankles and he wasn’t in a particularly spirited mood. How he had ever gotten and kept on getting stuck with Richard Cameron as a roommate astounded him. Fate was cruel. In his head, he could hear Keating’s rhythmically melancholic voice quote Shakespeare, “Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Hover through the fog and filthy air.” 

“Cameron’s certainly foul. What kind of teenage boy is so obsessed with rules?” Charlie thought. “He’s…he’s…he’s devilishly pedagogical!” he then declared aloud, his voice echoing throughout the vacant park. 

Returning to his thoughts, he told himself, “And it was certainly foul how Cameron’s mom called on someone to keep an eye on him. Are we to never have fun? Are we to never ‘live deep and suck out all the marrow of life’? If we don’t do it now, when will we? When Neil’s a doctor? When Todd’s an accountant? When I’m a banker? Jesus. And how the hell is it that Cameron can’t even properly describe a woman? I mean I’d understand if she was a grandmother, but he said she looked a few years older than us. A FEW YEARS OLDER THAN US! And he didn’t take the time to notice if she was attractive or was well-endowed. No, just that she was ‘too tall, youngish, and blonde.’ God, he’s gonna keep jerking off to that picture of Sandra Dee for the rest of his pathetic life. That moron Fraser could do a better job than him. At least he’d probably get her cup size correct…If this is going to be a worthwhile, unforgettable, legendary meeting, I’m going to have to break that rotten promise Cameron made us take. ”

Paraphrasing Eliot, Charlie yelled out to the empty darkness, “‘We will not go out with a whimper, but a bang!’”


	5. Chapter 5

Charlie would have to wait till the next day to wake the others from their metaphoric slumber. He _was_ able to successfully pull them away from their game of Monopoly when he returned. He reminded them that they were here for a Dead Poets meeting not a Boy Scout one. And like that Neil was contemplating what they could do to mimic the atmosphere of the cave and create a more lively a energy. Shyly, Todd suggested building a pillow fort. Before either Meeks or Pitts could think or verbalize a blueprint, or Cameron could stop them, Nuwanda, Perry, and Anderson were energetically moving furniture about the room and throwing pillows to the ground. Cameron was busy almost having a heart attack and soon the “fort building” degenerated into a pillow fight. Todd hid behind Neil until the boy turned round and with a maniacal laugh attacked him. Meanwhile, years of summer camps had instructed Meeks on how to not only produce the best pillow swing, but also protect his glasses. Pitts wallowed down on each of them with his own pillow until a sneaky move from Charlie ended with the tall boy landing on his butt on the floor. Cameron had managed a few strategic swings, but his cockiness and taste for revenge did him in. Like Pitts, he sat exhausted on the floor. Soon, Neil and Todd joined them, both too exhausted and in too much hysterics to continue on. Charlie and Meeks were the only two left standing. They came to a truce when Meeks agreed to join the boisterous Nuwanda in a howl. 

By the time they started reading poetry, the clock was chiming 12. With aggressions out of the way, under Pitts and Meeks direction and Cameron’s supervision, they had all constructed the fort together. Despite the lateness of the hour, the poor food choices, and the exertions of the pillow fight, all of them, except Cameron, still recited with clarity and fervor. Neil wished Mr. Keating could see this. He wished that his favorite teacher could know the effect he’d had on all of them. It was too bad that Mr. Nolan looked down on this kind of thing.

Eventually, each of their eyes began to cloud over and lids droop, and finally, Meeks suggested they all go to bed. Even Charlie welcomed the confined coziness of his sleeping bag.


End file.
